


Halcyon Days

by allwedidwaskiss



Category: Riddick (2013), The Chronicles of Riddick (2004), The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: Ambiguous Relationship, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Touching, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5509346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwedidwaskiss/pseuds/allwedidwaskiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holy fuck, notorious criminal on board.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halcyon Days

**Author's Note:**

> So I am not in the Riddick fandom, I've seen and mostly enjoyed the movies. Therefore, all of the science-fiction stuff is gobbledy-gook I made up off the top of my head except for the prison, Crematoria. 
> 
> The whole reason this is even a thing is my friend has a serious hard on for Vin Diesel but is not a fandom person. I was like, "reader fics would be great for you!" however,there are no Riddick/Reader fics available? So here you are, my darling. I have written you one. This may be continued at a later date, if she wants to have more adventures with her fav Vin Diesel character. 
> 
> That being said, this is my entirely first attempt at writing Het!sex, like, actually, EVER. please be gentle (no pun intended... ok fine, that pun was a happy accident, but i refuse to apologize for it lol). I dropped this jawns out in about 5 hours, no BETA, no nothing, so if you want to help with that, lmk. 
> 
> Title taken from Music to Fuck To by Portishead.
> 
> Ok, that's all for the PSA. Here's to some (hopefully good) fucking...

The sound of the engines churning over wakes you as suddenly as the abrupt stop of your Cryosleep and the insistent beeping of the AI system.

“Internal systems error. Total reboot required. Cyrosleep interrupted.” The mechanize voice drones over and over calmly and blaring throughout the ship.

You flip the panel, push the button and crank the lever that operates the emergency release panel on your Cyrobed.

 “So much for a nice trip,” you mutter under your breath as you tie your long hair back making your way down the storage bay and towards the bridge.

You picked up this ex-transpo skiff at the last Intercont Market and have been paying dearly for it ever since. There was another model that had caught your eye for 100 more credits, but you figured save now, have later.   However, that was before you discovered the true meaning of buyer’s remorse.

“What’s the fucking problem now?” you grumble out loud as you enter the cockpit.

 “Internal systems error. Total reboot required. Cyrosleep interrupted.” The ship seems to answer you.

 “Totally helpful, thanks.” You reply sarcastically as you open the systems log to check out the issues. Fortunately the Cyrosleep interruption was only a glitch, which means that you won’t have to repair the ion freezing elements which can cost a pretty fucking penny, but unfortunately, you can’t reboot the system midflight.

 You’ll have to put down somewhere and overhaul your whole interface if you want to make Glouria Aldertaun uninterrupted from here out.

 Sighing heavily, you refer to your almanac and identify a Noname planet nearby that’s carbon life-supported where you can touch down and do your repairs. A quick out-of-atmosphere scan confirms the air as passable and that the planet is indeed as uninhabited as listed.

 “At least one thing is going right today.” You try to cheer yourself up as you buckle in to pilot down to the surface.

 This’ll be a cakewalk – two hours, max, on the system overhaul and then you’ll be on your way.

 Famous last words.

 --

 You’re working on detangling the index codes that prevent you from travelling more than 50 million light miles without a fucking system crash when an alert pops up on the screen.

 “Attack detected! Shield damage: 20%. Reroute power source to compensate.” The AI blares in your face before you can even read the system alert on the screen.

 “Shut the fuck up!” you snap at the AI and scroll through the alert. Something struck the port blaster pretty hard. A hull scan shows that it’s damaged and barely holding. Great, you’ll have to disembark to deal with _that_ now.

 Sighing, you figure you’ll debug the system and then go check out the thruster’s damage.

 --

 Now four hours later, you’re suited up in your coveralls and putting the finishing touches on reattaching and stabilizing the thruster. Your initial investigation shows that it was a rock, probably falling off the cliff face, hit the thruster from above and almost knocked it off.

 You thank your lucky stars that it wasn’t crushed or you’d be here until the next lunar cycle when a Databot might happen by for planet readings. That would fucking suck.

 You sigh audibly as you tighten the final bolt and grin triumphantly as you straighten and crack your back from being crouched for what feels like forever now.

 “Finally. I might need a nap before I take off.” You smile to yourself for the first time today and dust your hands off.

 “Now _that_ I can help you with,” a deep voice drawls behind you and your shoulders tense with adrenaline before something hits you and everything goes black.

\--

This time consciousness slips back to you slowly, in phases, like the tide creeping up a beach. You hear the distant, familiar hum of the engines and realize you’re not in the Cyrobed, but instead slumped on the bench in the galley.

 “Ugh… the fuck?” you grumble, as you turn onto your back. Your head throbs so you grab it with both hands to keep it attached to your neck. You feel like you might vomit but force it down.

 “Christ, I gotta stop drinkin’…” you more or less stagger upright and lurch to the latrine at the other end of the galley, jabbing the close panel with your elbow. You immediately rifle through the medicab and produce two headache tablets. Eh, to be safe better take four.

 You swallow then, frantically gulp down about a liter of water and splash some on your face while you wait for the medicine to kick in.

 You’re dragging a towel over your face when you suddenly remember!

 You didn’t put yourself on the ship! Someone attacked you!

 Immediately on the defensive, you glance around the latrine in a panic, trying to find a feasible weapon that’s not a plunger.

  _Shit_ , there’s nothing in here. Your heart is racing and your hands begin to shake with adrenaline. You figure if they left you in the galley, they a) hadn’t expected you to wake up so soon b) be a threat when you did wake up.

  _Yeah, we’ll see about that, motherfucker._ You clench your jaw in anger. Fuck this asshole, whoever they are. Try and steal your ship after all the hard work you put into the piece of shit?! No fuckin’ way.

 You search your coveralls and are pleased to find all your tools where you left them. You silently work off the panel cover and override the controls. Prying the door open with your hands is hard work and sweat has begun to collect on your forehead, but you would prefer the door to be manual in case you need to retreat, or a defensible hiding spot.

 A plunger or a sonic screwdriver would be a shitty weapon but it would be better than going down like some punk ass rookie, murdered in your own ship, defenseless like a child.

 What you really want is your blaster gun, sitting innocently in the aft of the ship next to your bunk.

 Sticking your head out, the coast seems clear. You can’t hear anything but the thrumming of the engines. No footsteps or voices. You prise the door open just enough to slip through it and silently as you can, begin making your way through the galley.

 You make it past the Cyrobank and are nearing the bunks when you hear that voice behind you again.

 “Looking for something?”

 You spin around quickly, shoulders hunched, in a fighting stance. The man behind you is… well, not what you expected and exactly what you expected all at once.

 He’s wearing blacked out flight goggles, so you can’t see his eyes but his lips are quirked in amusement. That’s one red flag. So are his dirty, ripped and ragged clothes. His big, solid frame barely covered decently by the rags he’s wearing.

 His broad shoulders, thick biceps and solid forearms are entirely visible as the work tank he’s wearing is too small to begin with and also littered with tears.

 His trim but thick waist and tight, high ass was swathed in a raggedly pair or cargo pants that had seen better days but were definitely holding on better than his shirt.

 You swallow thickly and realize he’s holding your blaster gun in one beefy hand. _Fuck._ You curse internally.

 “That’s what I thought,” he smirks at you openly now and you try to control the shaking in your limbs.

 “What do you want? I want you off my ship _now_.” You hope you sound authoritative and angry instead of just mostly scared and expecting to die any minute now.

 This guy is obviously bad news. He’s got at least a foot and a half on you and seems to be made entirely of bad intentions and solid muscles.

 He shrugs and continues to grin at you. “I don’t think so, sister.” He huffs a laugh as he holsters your weapon on his belt. “We may have gotten off on the wrong foot here.”

 Now _that_ makes you genuinely angry. What the actual fuck?

 “Are you on _drugs_?” you hiss.

 You’re actually seeing red and you advance on the guy, “The _wrong foot_?!!! You fucking _knocked me out_ and _hijacked my ship_ and _I’m_ the asshole who’s overreacting here?!”

 You’re all up in his face now, finger extended and blood rushing through your ears. The nerve of this fucking dickwad!

 “I’m sure that whole suave criminal bullshit worked on whatever penal colony you usually call home but civilized folks don’t actually ATTACK AND KIDNAP EACH OTHER!” You finish shouting basically right into his collarbone because he is a lot taller than you expected.

 Your face is hot enough that you are worried about your blood pressure and the guy hasn’t stepped back an inch, just raises an eyebrow as your brain catches up to what your body has done.

 You hastily take several steps back and your face is now cherry red for an entirely different reason.

 His laugh is dark and dangerous and it lights a shiver down your spine you barely cover up in time.

 “Well, everyone who’s met me can tell you I’m no where near civilized folk…” He looks at you appraisingly and licks his lips. “Seems to me you should be showing your appreciation. I could have left you behind on that dusty ass planet when I _borrowed_ your ship.”

 You can’t help but huff out a disbelieving laugh at that and immediately wish you hadn’t. But instead of seeming angry, he actually grins at your reaction. You wish you could smile back, if only to ease the tension creeping up your limbs, but it reminds you of how a jackal might grin at its next meal.

 “One might argue that I did you a favor here.” He purposefully keeps very still and looks you in the eye. Suddenly you realize that he actually isn’t trying to threaten you. He’s _joking_ with you and unexpectedly this feels like a test.  

 You consider your options. You’re unarmed and dude seems to be raising a peace flag. He is obviously still dangerous and you’re not sure if you can even trust him, but he hasn’t tried to overtly hurt you – only get you out of the way so that he could hijack your ship. You’ve heard of worse happening in your position and are grateful right now, but again, you don’t know how trustworthy he is.

 He could still hurt you and overpowering probably wouldn’t even work up a sweat so all you really have is his word and how he interacts with you. He doesn’t seem remorseful for hijacking the ship but seems to be making an effort so you’ll stop hissing like an alley cat.

 You decide what the hell. It can’t get any worse than this. If he decides to hurt you, there’s precious little you could do to stop him, at least until you get your hands on a decent weapon again. Taking a deep breath you make your decision.

 “Sure,” you huff out, reaching to touch the back of your head gingerly. “If you count this lump on my head as a favor. I think you’re on kitchen duty for the foreseeable future.”

His face does a funny thing. His eyebrows leap in surprise, the corners of his mouth twitch tightly and then curl upwards.

 “Fair.” He growls after a minute of studying your face. “I did hit you harder than I meant to. Thought you were a guy in that flight suit.”

You bristle at his comment but decide, in light of everything, to simply pick your battles. “Whatever, paid like 60 credits for these coveralls, but fine.” You mutter to yourself. You think you hear him laugh but ignore it.

 “I’ve got some conditions.” You look right at his goggles before he nods once.

 “I want to see your eyes. I need my blaster back, no offense, but I won’t really feel safe until I’m armed around you. And I need to know your destination, if not your plans. You seem like a guy with a lot of people looking for you and I deserve to know what’s going on if you are going to be my _passenger_. And I don’t even know your name.” You raise an eyebrow and wait for his response.

 Instead of answering right away, he draws the blaster from his belt and tosses it to you, safety on and handle first. You catch it easily and keep it in hand, barrel down. Immediately, you feel more at ease and it’s noticeable if his returning smirk is anything to go by.

 After one more appraising look at your face, he begins to speak. “You’re right about all the aspersions you cast on my character, you know. I just escaped Crematoria and I’m not so keen on a return visit.”

 You gulp involuntarily. “I thought it was impossible to escape Crematoria.” You whisper, wishing your voice had come out stronger. The man smiles, “For anyone else it would be.” He assures you, advancing towards you.

 You stand your ground because he had just agreed to your conditions and showing mistrust right after would only jeopardize your agreement. You have a feeling that this dude is someone whose trust you don’t want to break.

 “But for me,” and his jackal smile is back, curved over his lips like he knows exactly how predatory it makes him look, “it’s a piece of cake.”

 He flips the light switch, plunging the galley into darkness except for the emergency floor lights. You can just make out the shape of his hulking shoulders as he turns back towards you and raises his hands. You refuse to tense, nothing about his body language is indicating attack and now you’re just confused.

 He removes the goggles and you gasp involuntarily at the gleam of his white eyes, milky and ethereally glowing through the darkness. You know who this man is.

 “There’s no penal colony secure enough to hold Richard B. Riddick.” His laugh bounces off the walls in the darkness and its intimately threatening sound seems to consume you.

 Holy fuck, notorious criminal on board.

 --

It’s not actually hard sharing space with a notorious murderer. He’s pretty polite, in the predatory way, and keeps his shit clean. 

You hate when he shaves his head with his knife though.

His jokes are really fucking grim, but that’s probably to be expected. His cooking is passable and you think he actually feels guilty for the concussion he gave you, because he always does the dishes afterwards too.

You’re smart enough to realize that this will stop as soon as you address it, so you keep your mouth shut.

As much as it’s just like sharing cabin space with any other passenger, it’s also decidedly not. Sometimes you’ll mistake a room for unoccupied because the lights are off.

Unfortunately for you, your first instinct on entering a darkened room is to turn on the lights. Startled Riddick caught with his goggles off will often throw whatever object is in his hand at the light source. He hits it about 90% of the time.

The galley is always a creepy shade of twilight these days because ¾ of the lights have fallen to your stowaway’s wrath. He seems to be able to tolerate that level of light with his goggles off, so by default, that’s where he seems to spend most of his time.

He also, well, _stalks_ sounds funny when you’re in such an enclosed space. But sometimes, the way his eyes follow you or he instantly seems aware of your presence whenever you enter a room – that’s the only word you’ve got for it.

 He hasn’t outwardly done anything to make you any more of afraid of him. But his presence makes you feel hunted in a way that makes your belly tingle.

 You talk over meals. He first revealed his destination to you over lunch; simple sandwiches of dried meat and hard cheese, but better than MREs.

 “I plan to cruise, with your permission of course, Captain.” He smirks at you, like you’re actually going to say anything at this point. Dude’s incorrigible and you just roll your eyes instead.

 He’s amused.

 You’re sure that’s going to be a running theme throughout your reluctant partnership.

“Without entering hyperspace, we should get to the Andromeda system pretty stealthily.” He stops to take a bite of his sandwich.

“Hmm. Stealthily, huh?” you can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Riddick visibly ruffles, “yeah, stealthily, is that a problem?”

You shake your head quickly. “Nah, man. Just you have a pretty fancy vocabulary for a penal system graduate.” 

Riddick stiffens and you’re sure you’ve made a mistake. You were only joking, taking a jab the same way you would at your younger brother back home on Earth, or one of your friends from school. 

Unfortunately, you forgot that Riddick is not quite at all like any of the other men you’ve known before.

His laugh startles you more than anything because it’s abrupt. Afterwards, he looks confused too – like it surprised him as well.

“What? I read.” He fakes offense and it’s your turn to laugh.

“Yeah? Knock yourself out, the library’s over there,” you gesture to the far wall where you’ve got a wall of holobooks your friend Lirael keeps sending from home with your left hand as the right stuffs the last two bites of your sandwich in your mouth.

“I’ll be in the cockpit, locking our cruise in.” You throw over your shoulder on your way out.

You miss the way Riddick’s eyes twinkle after you.

You’re also used to the way that Riddick seems to not understand the simple concept of a personal space bubble. He’s super creepy with what appears to be a _sniffing_ habit.

It’s been about a month and a half of slowly trawling through planet systems, looking like local traffic and moving along congested routes to maintain anonymity and sometimes you’re still not sure if this guy is fucking with you or simply just that unsettling.

You’re coming to the conclusion that it might be a mixture of the two.

So to say you’re used to him coming up behind you while you’re in the cockpit, or trying to catch _five minutes_ of alone time in the bunk is an understatement.

It’s why this time you think nothing of it when he corners you in the bunk, slinking in undetected and settling next you on the covers hardly before you’ve even noticed he’s there.

The first indication is his scent, that woodsy musk of his filling your senses before you even recognize the feeling of another body in your space.

Sighing in the most put-upon manner you can muster, to mask the way your pulse always quivers and then beats double-time when he’s close to you like that, you turn to him.

“Can I help you, Richard?” you ask, sure to use his first name so he understands how exasperated you are with him.

His smile is darker than his usual playful smirk and your heart is instantly on high alert, but for a different reason. Or, maybe, the idea of being prey has somehow gotten mixed up in the presence of arousal that surrounds you whenever Riddick is around that you can’t tell the difference anymore.

You’re not sure where your mind is at right now and the intense way you can feel him studying you through those black lenses is not helping your pulse to calm down at all.

He still doesn’t say anything, but he does get up off of the bunk. You can’t help yourself, you exhale in relief, but it seems to be preemptive.

Riddick saunters to the light switch and flicks it off. You tense as the light flees the room, leaving only the dim lantern you use to see at night left.

“Riddick, what are you doing?” you demand of him, hating how reedy and tense your voice sounds.

His chuckle almost feels like a physical caress over your skin and you watch, mesmerized, as he tugs his goggles off. You inhale sharply as his eyes are revealed, gleaming brightly in the small amount of light let off by the lantern. Even then, he turns his face away slightly and you scramble to move the light further away from the bunk, to the other side of the room.

This decreases your eyesight, but you think you can still make out that small grateful quirk of the corner of the lips that Riddick gets when you unexpectedly do a considerate thing.

You can’t help yourself, you are nice and accommodating, even when a sexy murderer is the person you’re helping out.

You clear your throat and Riddick comes back to sit beside you again.

“I see how you look at me,” he whispers in the dark, leaning forward so the faintest hint of his breath ruffles the hair around your left ear.

You cannot control the shiver that marches down your spine at that, but you bite your lip to keep the gasp inside.

He chuckles again and all of a sudden, you feel a hot pulse shoot between your legs, your cunt is throbbing in arousal. You can’t even think right now with how hot the pit of your stomach feels. You know you’re wet and if Riddick is making these advances, then you know he wants it.

You’re a grown adult, right? Who cares if you fuck a murderer? He’s a pretty decent guy, all given and you know he can probably make you feel really good.

His voice is rough, dropped an octave deeper as he leans even closer still to growl into your ear.

“You gonna do anything about it? Or do you like it when you don’t have to be responsible? You want plausible deniability?” He’s moving closer and closer and the throbbing between your legs is distracting you from making a clear-headed decision.

You can feel his hot breath gusting over your skin, not just the side of your neck, but your collarbone as well, as you tilt your head, exposing more of your neck.

That seems to be all the submission he needs and he moves in to drag his teeth over the exposed column of pale neck you subconsciously offered him.

You can’t stop the moan that pours out of you. It’s been so long since anyone touched you and his hands are so big and warm as they come up to move your hair out of the way.

His other hand wraps around your hip and pulls you into his lap. You can feel the hot line of his erection pressed against your engorged lips, even through his pants and your leggings.

He moves one hand down to rub at your clit through the fabric and he growls out against your skin when he finds you hot and wet.

“Fuck, kitten. If I had known you were this hard up for it…” he’s practically moaning now and you feel so powerful to have cracked his usually indifferent façade. You smirk gently and push at his shoulder so he comes away from your neck.

Pushing him back further, you situate yourself on your back with him in between your legs.

“Hmm,” he hums deep in approval and dives back in for your neck. You stop him though, wanting to have at least one kiss from him if this is going where you plan on it going. His lips are soft and thick as your slot your mouth to his.

To your surprise, he acquiesces almost immediately, moaning softly into the kiss and bringing both hands up to frame your face. He licks gently at your lower lip until you open your mouth to him, allowing his tongue to swipe against yours slowly.

You spread your legs wider, letting him settle in between them. He continues to kiss you as you start to shift your hips upward to rub your lips against his cock through your clothes again. He grunts into your mouth each time you make contact and your pulse is racing.

You know you want him in you, but even now are kind of afraid to break the spell to ask for it.

Riddick breaks away from your mouth to lay a trail of kisses down your throat. You moan quietly as his lavishing attention on your weak spot and he continues to thrust down against you, simulating how good it would be to take your clothes off.

Thankfully, he makes the first move when his mouth reaches the vee of your tank and he can’t go any further. “Can I take this off?” he asks you, voice dark and heady, fingers tripping at the hem of your shirt.

“If you take off yours,” you answer him breathlessly and almost don’t recognize your own voice, how throaty and raspy you sound. He hums in approval again, helping you out of your top easily, his large hand wrapping around your waist to help you sit up.

He comes back to your throat, his mouth hot and wet on your skin and you grasp at him, try to pull him closer. “Fuck, doll, can I –”

You moan in arousal before he can even finish asking his question and thrust up hard while tightening your legs around his waist in answer.

“Shit,” he hisses fervently, but wastes no time stripping you out of your leggings and flinging them across the room and shimmying out of his own pants.

You’re trembling with how aroused you are, your pussy is dripping wet and ready for him. It’s too dark to see much of anything, but when Riddick settles back over your body, blanketing you in muscled heat, the flash of his eyes catches yours in the dark.

You moan at both the eye contact and at the feel of skin on skin contact.

Riddick winks at you and begins to slide down your body. He settles his face in between your legs and your thighs twitch. The first slide of his tongue across your labia makes your stomach clench hard.

“You like that?” he asks, his mouth still touching you. His lips are grazing over your clit and you whine as you automatically thrust your hips up towards his face.

“Nuh uh, none of that, princess.” And his right forearm comes up to lay across your hips to keep them still.

With you pinned in place, he starts to really work you open, laving your clit with the broad flat of his tongue, before licking down. He sucks your clit hard for long minutes as he brings his left hand up to your slit.

The first finger slides in so easily, you’re dripping now, your pussy hot and trying to clench around his single digit as he slides it in and out of you. You can’t stop the moan that tumbles from your lips and he in turn groans around your clit.

Your legs are shaking and your breath is coming out in pants and you can’t seem to find your words. “Riddick,” you whine his name and he hums around your clit in response, his fingers fucking into you deep. Your back bows in response.

“Fuck! Shit, oh Christ, you gotta fuck me.” You manage to string together English in passable syllables. Riddick moans out around your clit one more time and then detaches with a firm, long suck that brings tears to the corners of your eyes.

You’re whining now and you can’t even be embarrassed about it. You’re so turned on, the thought of him stuffing his dick in you is almost enough in of itself to get you off right now.

You’re so lost in your thoughts, you don’t realize when he moves into position, the searing heat of the tip of his cock dragging against your pussy folds, moving through how wet you are stops all thoughts in your brain. 

You whine breathlessly and try to cant your hips so he’ll slip right into you, but he stops you with a growl and those huge, hot hands positioning your hips right where he wants them.

“Be still,” he growls against your neck just as he begins to push his hot, hard cock into your pussy. He moves forward inch by inch and you can feel how thick and long he is as he forces his way past the resistance of your muscles.

The feeling of being fucked open and full spreads through your legs, turning them to jelly and your belly flutters in anticipation. 

Every centimeter of your walls dragging over his hard cock makes your inner muscles twitch in tension, fuck, but that dick feels good, is filling you up in all the right places.

You moan out loudly, wanting to encourage him to move, to start to push further into you, push that dick as far up into your hungry pussy as you can get it.

As if he read your mind, that’s exactly what he does. He maintains his grip on your hips and starts to thrust into, slow, full and deep. He pulls back half way and then drives back into you, hard, knocking the breath from you and a stuttered moan.

 _Finally_ , you think. He begins to fuck into you, going harder and harder, picking up speed as his thrusts loosen you each time. 

Fuck, his dick is so thick and hot you can feel it rubbing over your G-spot again and again. It’s in you so deep and on each thrust he pushes in harder, and harder, grinding into you deeper and deeper.

He reaches down between your legs to play with your clit, breathing heavily into your neck as his thrusts get more and more powerful and erratic. 

“Fuck, your shit’s tight. I’m gonna come… Fuuck,” he pants into your neck and you moan the loudest you have all night as the words and hard thrusts he’s punching into bring you over the edge. Your orgasm starts in the warm feeling in your cunt and spreads out, causing your pussy muscles to contract rapidly around him.

“Shit,” he groans out and diligently fucks you harder as you cum. His own orgasm comes on the tail end of yours and you can feel his cum fill you and he collapses on your chest, slightly to the side, still inside you.

You relax together as your heartbeats come back down. Eventually, his bulk on top of you stops being warm and relaxing and starts being hot and suffocating.

“Ugh, get off now.” You push at his shoulder and he chuckles as he flops down next to you.

“I’m hungry,” he murmurs absently, reaching out a hand to flick some hair out of your face.

“If you think one orgasm is enough to get you out of kitchen duty, you’ve got another thing coming.” You smirk at him, only half joking.

“Aye, aye Captain.” He grins at you as he rolls out of the bed, you watch through slitted eyes as he gathers his clothes up and starts to dress. 

“Any requests, Sleeping Beauty?” his tone is rough, as it usually is, with just a hint of playful fondness in it you never noticed before.

“Hmm..” you hum in consideration, stretching out and yawning wide. “I dunno, surprise me.” And you chuckle quietly to yourself as you listen to him grumble under his breath as he makes his way to the galley.

You’re not sure how this is going to evolve, or even if it is, but you’re thinking this trip just got a lot more interesting. 


End file.
